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Page 290
"To do what?" Alinor snapped. "Have I bid my men disobey Sir Peter in any reasonable order? If he be loyal to me, they will be loyal to him."
"It is right," Ian sighed, "yet I wish it were not needful. I wish men would stand better by the oaths they swear."
"I, too," Alinor replied tartly. "It would save me a great deal of time, effort, and money." Then her expression softened. Ian was not so worn by the world as Simon had been. He still looked for men to be what they should be instead of what they were. It would be best for him if he thought no more of Sir Peter and his doings, but what would divert him? She could not send him out to hunt.
"Ian," Alinor said, "we overlooked a matter of some importance yesterday. We must send word of our marriage to the king. Or do you think we should just wait until he hears of it?"
"No, we must send word at once. And I did not overlook it. Until I had time to speak to you about your game with the messenger, I was not certain of just what I would need to do."
"Will you write to him? Or should I write, since the message came to me?"
"Both of us, I think."
Alinor giggled. "Oh, good. I have already begun a letter. I am glad my labor need not be wasted."
Ian hid his face in his hands and groaned. Alinor laughed aloud, saying she would fetch her letter while he went to piss. She returned to find Ian sitting in a chair with a long-suffering expression on his face.
"Listen," she urged. "If there is anything you do not like, I will change it. I thought to break the matter to him gently, so I began with 'From Alinor, Lady of Roselynde.' I can still say that, it does not matter that I am now Alinor de Vipont instead of Alinor Lemagne. Right?"
That was certainly a good notion. Ian nodded.

 
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